


The One Where Darkness is Your Sanctuary

by welcometothisday



Series: Mirror Mirror... [2]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 22:15:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometothisday/pseuds/welcometothisday
Summary: The one where an awkward reader and Aaravos meet under unexpected circumstances.Alternate POV of The One Where Aaravos Curses.





	The One Where Darkness is Your Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> “The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same. We are all one people, but we live as if divided.” - Guru Pathik, Avatar the Last Airbender

In this palace of wonders, life was boring.

From his prison, Aaravos gained little freedom, the mirror providing torturous hope. How he wanted to hear, to feel things once more. To talk to someone, to touch someone. He did not usually venture into this room. The only thing remarkable about it was the mirror, which he could see into another realm, the one he knew. Through it, he saw people of all kinds, form a mage performing dark sorcery, his entertaining children, and little else. Lately though, the mage either neglected to cover up the mirror, or was using the servants in his home as some form of experimentation. He likely thought if the mirror wouldn't do anything with him, it might do something for others, which made him irritated. Messing with humans that way was the best kind of entertainment he could get.

None of the servants particularly caught Aaravos' eyes though. All of their faces blended together, except for one. How does one describe a stranger aside from looks? Your eyes sparked at times, dimmed in others, but all the same you would smile. You steered clear of the mirror, unlike others though. Curiosity would get the better of them, but you always eyed magical items with some sort of fear. He had always wondered about that, and one day you were alone with another one of those nameless servants. You didn't seem to notice when the other human would look at you behind your back, or whisper of things that seemed distasteful. Frankly, Aaravos suspected the man was not to be trusted. It would be a pity if you disappeared though. He hoped you would realize the danger soon enough.

One day, everything fell apart. The other servant, the dangerous one, asked if you thought the mirror was magical, if Aaravos was reading his lips correctly. You turned, an uneasy smile on your expression as you spoke to him. Whether you were scared of the servant or any of the magical items in the room, the elf could not tell. But, he could understand what you might have said:

"_Undoubtedly."_ Oh? How had you been so sure? Had he slipped up somehow? Your body language showed your discomfort more than your words may have belied. Aaravos had to learn how to understand people without hearing them. He needed to, for his own sanity. "_Everything the mage owns has at least some of it, in one way or another.”_

He huffed out a chuckle, unable to erase his smile as you continued to speak words he couldn't hear. You were trying to appear more placid. It was a poor attempt, and if anyone hadn't noticed, they were fools. However, Aaravos couldn't bring himself to think it came from fear of the mirror.

"_Doesn't that make you uncomfortable? I mean, have you ever considered what that thing might do?"_

You shrugged, and Aaravos felt the urge to laugh freely when you answered, "_They’re called ‘looking glasses’ for a reason. Who knows, maybe Viren is spying on people. Maybe he’s a voyeur.”_

More like Aaravos could be if someone didn't care who or what might be there. He had accidentally come across the dark mage doing things that were fairly indecent. To his pleasant surprise, the mage had a rather interesting tattoo in a fairly delicate place. He hadn't known humans could put those there.

_"You don't think-"_

Aaravos couldn't help but pay close attention to you. You were intriguing, even if only a passing face. "_I’ve learned to expect the weirdest things of people, so, I wouldn't doubt it."_

The elf scowled when the human approached you from behind, startling you. Aaravos was sure now, that the thing you had been afraid of was your fellow human. He couldn't make out much, but the other human was aggressive, his hands touching even when you tried to push him away. Something hit the pit of Aaravos' stomach then. It was an icy dread as you looked so scared, trying to escape. You said 'no', very clearly though, and the other person kept pushing, persisting. Perhaps you hadn't realized it, but your frightened gaze met Aaravos' for a brief second after you fell, your head hitting the ground visibly made the mirror shake. You hadn't even been able to struggle when the other human went after you.

In all of Aaravos' spells, in his morals, what he believed in above all was choices and [consent](https://beautifulterriblequeen.tumblr.com/post/183452270450/aaravoss-7th-arcanum-and-the-concept-of-consent/embed). The human didn't give you the former, and you viscerally did not give the latter. For a brief moment, he wondered if this was a trick made by the dark mage, to gain attention, to find whatever he was seeking. But, even if it was, Aaravos could only see the red filled reflection of himself through the mirror, and in you. Scowling, he focused as he cast a spell, pushing his limits to reach the other side.

It had been pleasant to see the monster scream.

* * *

Last he had seen you, you had been carried out by one of the human knights, your body limp and hair dripping with scarlet. As the months passed, the mage grew more and more obsessed with the mirror. Aaravos had some sadistic glee in himself, but it was not satiated. He hadn't even known if you had survived what happened. He didn't know if your attacker was punished. He didn't know-

You entered the room with another, pale and frightened, confusion written all over your features as you held yourself. You didn't even look at him, only at the ceiling and the ground. On the floor was still a hint of red, his constant reminder of your possible demise for all this time. You cleaned as if your life depended on it, scrubbing your hands raw in the process, tears falling every once in a while as you held yourself. You had covered your mouth and appeared pained, nearly retching. But, you still didn't look at the mirror, not even when he was so tempted to contact you, to tell you that your fellow servant would _never_ harm you again.

A servant normally came with you after that, some kinder than others, and some telling you something along the lines of you needing to get over it. You always flinched when someone touched you though. 

One of the few times you were alone though, you had uttered, "_I can do this. I’m going to be okay..."_ He knew you would be. Your strength was to be admir- "_Thank you."_

You had looked back at him when you said it, almost straight where his own eyes reflected yours. Aaravos tried to contact you again, but you either didn't notice or pretended not to...What a frustrating human.

* * *

You were alone again, which was becoming part of the norm for you. It was stormy out, and he thought you would leave, hide, anything but _dance_. And what was even more puzzling? You smiled without forcing yourself, truly enjoying yourself where most would be afraid or in awe. The fire went out, and Aaravos decided to see if three times was the charm, as the saying goes.

Twas a pity you could only see him when there was darkness around.

The light from the mirror had covered you, making your hair appear as a totally different color, but you had not moved. You hadn't even turned the slightest. Perhaps he just wanted to mess with you a little, or he just got tired of this pretending game. He dimmed the lights a little, and when you turned...You fell on your ass.

There was fear, confusion, wonder, and-

You held up a finger (he was surprised it wasn't a middle one, a gesture he knew well from your kind), and calmly walked to the door, which was obviously locked but you didn't seem to care as you began yanking at it. Aaravos' ears pinned to his head. Yes, he severely doubted now that the mage was in on this, especially when you tried to pry the painting on the wall from its place...You had an interesting way of handling your emotions. He hadn't been expecting that kind of vocabulary.

You made a crude gesture at him, and all Aaravos could do was smug. He wasn't behind this in the slightest, but at that moment, he kind of wished he was. You two stared at each other, trying to guess the other's thoughts, intentions, desires, and then you sat down, not even looking at him. Wait, were you humming? Were you in that much denial, that you were going to pretend there _wasn't_ an elf in the mage's mirror? He was severely beginning to question your morals, especially when you compared him to a fish in a bowl. 

His lips showed his displeasure, but you showed your amusement. You squinted as he tried to signal he couldn't hear you. Yes, come, little human, give your blood for the magic potion so that he may hear you from the cute little bug that most humans freaked out at. This will be so much fun. And...You began flapping your hands around.

He shook his head, wondering if he should get away from the crazy human. No, wait, he needed to find a way out of here, and a human he could manipulate. It was you, the mage, or his spawn. Personally, he thought the spawn was easily manipulable, but he also needed someone possibly expendable, someone, he could use. And guess who was right there? Oh, look, it was you.

You had begun to write, but your writing was illegible, and he couldn't understand what you were trying to say. Aaravos held up his own finger, which you couldn't possibly know was a rude gesture from his four fingers, and brought over his potion-making materials. You looked both disgusted, and fearful. You had begun to step back, your wariness getting the best of you. So, he gestured, patiently, to the table near you, with similar items to his own.

And so, when he took out his knife and put it to his own flesh when you began flapping your hands again. Even though it wouldn't do any good, you had reached to stop him, as if he were there with you. Aaravos caught part of what you were saying though, and he stood utterly still in surprise. _"...it’s not worth harming yourself over!”_

You, were worried for his sake? Even though you feared him? Then, you surprised him when you came closer to the mirror, carefully accentuating each word as best you could. 

_“Please, don’t hurt yourself.”_ There was a pause, and it seemed as if you were pleading him not to do it. Something inside of him softened, and, desperate for contact of some kind, he showed you that he could heal, and quickly. You were still frustrated for some reason though. _ "That doesn’t make it much better. You still feel pain, don’t you?”_

He paused, rolling his eyes at himself as he lowered the knife. Then, you had the gall to flick the mirror, even though you knew it had to be like a 'fishbowl', as you had, and he tensed a little, just a little, as you scowled at him. You weren't afraid or frustrated now, you were _angry_, and it wasn't an emotion he'd seen from you before. It hurt a little, thinking that the first time he saw it was when you directed your rage at _him_. 

"_For crying out loud, you bloody elves are supposed to live to be centuries’ old, some possibly thousands, and you’re still so damned foolish. What are you even doing this for anyway? What good is there in hurting yourself? Don’t you have someone who cares about you?”_

Lamely, Aaravos shook his head, not quite sure what to make of you. One second you were afraid, and another you were yelling. You cared, but you also insulted. What an adorable little mess you were. Then, you did the most befuddling thing of all, "_Maybe you should add someone then."_

His ears twitched as he processed your words and your smile. Okay, he was picking up the knife again, and you looked ready to slap him, so he put it back down. When did humans get so scary? But, then he remembered certain humans' actions from so many years ago.

You pointed to your mouth, greeting him and telling him your rather odd name. He had a feeling it wasn't real, or at the very least was a pseudonym for yourself. You didn't ask for his though.

_"I'm a dumbass human. Would it be okay if I cared about you?"_ What? You laughed then, and he wondered if there was something on his face then. Oh, right, he had stars there, ones that burned brightly when you laughed, and when you said, "_That's a cute face you have, you should make it more often."_

Were you, flirting with him? Did that mage's spawn give you some of that strange, brown brew? Whatever it was, it couldn't be healthy.

You jumped then, glancing towards the door. You smiled, shrugging, throwing him off as you said, exaggerating your mouth movements,_ “Are you going to answer the question?”_

Er, what was the question again? Because he didn't answer, you shrugged again (was that a habit of yours?), and you picked the lock on the door. Why hadn't you done that earlier? Did that mean you had been curious about him? You were confusing.

Before you crossed the threshold, you returned briefly, showing him a piece of music. _“When I’ve been trapped in darkness before, music helped. Can you read this?”_

You had this uncanny ability to make him smile, even if you didn't realize it. He nodded, and you said, _ “I don’t know much about magic, but I know there’s always a price for everything in life. Until I have a better idea of what you’re selling, and what I’m paying, I’ll bring you songs and stories. I’m a dumbass, and a jerk, but you look like you need a friend. ”_

His grin grew, and he copied the notes, glad to finally have something new in his fancy prison.

Aaravos hoped you didn't notice when he waved back to you...He didn't know why he did it.

* * *

Why were you rubbing your fingers over bumpy paper? There was no way to decipher it in the darkness surrounding you. You could barely see anything. But, there were you again, becoming comfortable in a place with no light...With him.

_“I'm reading braille, a language developed for those who are blind or have difficulty seeing. I had family that used it, and so I read it. There’s a lot of literature that people miss on when they don’t try to learn anything new,” _you wrote, your smile bittersweet. _“I could teach you if you’d like? You read by feeling the patterns on the page.”_

Well, that would be useful. He glanced at the dotted pages, narrowing his eyes slightly. Picking up a pen and paper, he couldn't help but write, "Why help me?"

Shrugging was something that came naturally to you, apparently. "_Life is short, time with friends even shorter, but those moments can last forever with the right people. If I die in a war anytime soon, I want to live here and now in these little moments, and when I die, I don’t want you to be alone. It sucks.”_

If he could hear you, he'd say you had the voice of experience. But, seeing how you interacted with others...“You’ve been alone? You have people.”

You barely maintained your smile, _“One can be alone, while still being in a crowd. I wouldn’t doubt it if you’ve seen your share of violence in your time. There are moments where people don’t act when something terrible happens in front of them. People get hurt, we die, and sometimes, there’s no one there to bury us.”_

Aaravos had seen his fair share of the dead over the years, the memories of them still lingering in his mind. "And you?"

He regretted asking after seeing your expression. _“My family died years ago. In the end, I was alone in a crowd of people who wished to harm me or ignore me more than they already had. And, I'm just a servant. So, no, I doubt there’s anyone interested in burying me except to rid of the foul stench of a corpse.”_

Great, he broke the nice human. He winced, figuring that the two of you should get away from that topic, for which you were happy to. _“ _You could have told others I was here.”

You leaned against the wall, the bags of your eyes were more prominent than the colors in the eyes themselves. And here you had been telling him to take care of himself when it was evident you couldn't do the same. “_And what? They would smash the mirror? Leave you alone for all eternity? Wish to use your power for their own purposes? Beyond that, you still haven’t earned my trust, and you have not been able to do any chaos that I am able to decipher thus far. Call me a fool, but you and I would have more to lose if I tell someone, rather than not informing them.”_

This human, you, were definitely strange. Immature, but your words expressed age some might not easily fathom. Perhaps it was the loss of your family that caused you to age so much, so quickly. But, most humans, if not all, had asked something of him at some point, to serve him. He certainly knew the dark mage wanted something. You though? What did you wish for? 

"You do not seek anything from me? ”

_“You’re a person, not an object, regardless of what form you take, ” _ you said. “_Saying otherwise would be akin to calling a dragon an animal, or a geode merely a rock. There’s more to you than a pretty exterior.”_

Were you flirting again? It was hard to tell, but he wanted to be the one to make _you_ glow instead of him. He smirked, “You think I’m ‘pretty’?”

_“You look like stars and have contrasting colors that are meant to catch be eye-catching. Of course, you’re pretty," _you said with a flat expression. He had a feeling you were stating something, and not trying to flatter him. Aaravos pretended not to be affected, but completely fell out of his chair when you followed up, with a bored look, _“What, you want to strip so I can map out your constellations? Give me a show, pretty boy?”_

By the stars, you really needed to decide what you wanted from him. He was a mage with access to all six primal sources of magic _and_ could use dark magic. He had learned various forms of fighting, including psychologically disarming his opponents. Damn it, _he_ was the one supposed to mess with heads, not _you_. You didn't even have any magic or abilities as far as he was aware and you...

Oh, how much he wanted to stop your laughter, and that dumb, annoying, bright smile. But, you were a human, and curiosity went a long way. Who knew? Maybe you just wanted him to serve you in a _different_ way than he thought. Maybe he could mess with you _now._ Grinning, he asked, "Is that how you want me to serve you?"

You rolled your eyes at him, not being affected by him whatsoever. This was unfair. _"Do it and I’ll write all sorts of expletives and phrases on the mirror that you won’t like."_ Smirking, you tacked on, _"And if you ever get out, I can show you exactly where to stick all of that."_

Ouch. He could easily imagine to what area on/in him you would do that. It did not sound pleasant, at all. However, the lightheartedness of the way you didn't seem affected by him, just made it a little easier to talk to you. He tried to say, _"_ A simple 'no,' would have sufficed."

You had tensed, so many unpleasant expressions danced across your facial features as you processed his words. You probably didn't notice it, but you were holding yourself again. _“Not everyone heeds ‘no’ so easily.” _

Those particular words truly ached agonizingly in that moment. He tried to recollect the memories of how you were hurt, and seeing that version and the person in front of him...Aaravos had a hard time accepting that had been you before. It felt like _he_ was the one not coping. Here you were, in the place you lost yourself for a while, smiling and laughing. More so, you came to see an elf, _him_. Humans and elves were enemies as far as he knew in this period of time. They were even about to go to war. You also feared him on some level, and both of you knew it. And, you were _still_ here, unlike...

Aaravos knew what it meant to be hurt by someone you trusted, who took without asking or losing themselves to something inconceivable, or even painful. In that moment, Aaravos understood that you had ruined his plans without realizing it. Just as you came to care for him, he was starting to care about you. Looking you straight in the eye, he swore, "I do, I would, and I listen.” 

You probably couldn't trust him on other things, but you could trust him on this. 

Your smile, that literal stunning smile, returned, "_I never did properly thank you for saving me. So, thank you_."

And the two of you just talked. You let him take the lead in most conversations, silent though they may be. He saw more of your smiles, and the yearning to hear your voice nearly took his breath away. It got stronger when you were laughing as you danced to the music only he could hear as he played it. So, he silently begged to listen, truly listen, to you. He had shown you the tools of the trade needed, but you only left him with two more gifts, a small storybook labeled _Love Amongst the Dragons_ and new music pieces.

He had seen one of the mage's spawn reading it, and so, he had a feeling he might like it.

At the end of all the meetings you had afterward, whether you taught him to read or sign new languages (sometimes having only four fingers made things a tad difficult when it came to humans), Aaravos had always asked for you to perform the ritual with him. You always said 'no', and he abide by it, his yearning to have _some_ kind of physical connect growing insatiably more difficult each day. If only he could hear your voice, just once, then he'd find some semblance of peace.

* * *

Why hadn't you asked his name, or anything really? He asked you, and wrote, "_Correct me if I’m wrong, but my parents were storytellers. They told me that names hold power because those a part of us. If you gave me your name, wouldn’t you be trusting me with something more than you already are? That hardly seems fair."_

Even Viren, the annoying mage, had known names had power. The problem was, Viren held no true power over him. For you though? You easily recognized the possible dangers. So, he admitted your parents hadn't been wrong.

"_You’re trapped in a mirror as far as I know,” _you pointed out, choosing to speak, and carefully, thoughtfully, speaking the words so that he could read your lips. Those, soft, kind lips and where was his mind going? _“ And anybody might try to harm or use you while you’re like this. You aren’t helpless per se, but you are at a major disadvantage. I’m trying to give you something without possibly harming others.”_

Apparently you'd been told your coworker had been hit by a brick and was caught before any damage was done. That hadn't been a complete truth, but it wasn't a brick that made the creature that called itself human so terrified. But, he wasn't going to tell you otherwise because that seemed like a _very_ poor choice to make. Instead, he wanted you to be _less_ afraid of him. But, he also knew that he wanted to earn your slivers of happiness more and more.

_"_ You are wiser than most, not to trust me, yet.”

You grimaced,_ “I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or attempting to flatter me, gives a contrary point to what you just said. And now I worry for those who trusted you too soon.”_

Oh, you had no idea at all what he'd done. Still, even if somehow the two of you never heard each other, he wanted to see his name on your lips. It was becoming almost unbearable to not hear you, to not touch you. He'd missed messing with people, but he missed being held even more. He missed having a friend, and forgotten that he did in the first place. So, he got the paper and pen, starting to write out his name. You gave him a single syllable word that made him halt, and he realized you had covered your eyes. Your hands, scarred with markings both accidental and some not, captured his attention. The world had obviously not been kind to you.

You had peeked after a moment as if testing to see if he would keep his word. That didn't negate the fact he wanted you to know his name. 

Being a bit clumsy, you said, _"I’m sorry, but I also worry that if you tell me your name, then it would taint the image I have of you. I want to know you, as you are. If you’re in that mirror, there’s a reason, isn’t there?”_

And there it was, the novae filled question. He breathed in and out, “Most would phrase that differently.”

Aaravos hadn't wanted to talk about it, and you made him feel better by not asking to discuss it further. You were amazing.

_“Dumbass, remember?”_ you snickered._ “ Without asking me to perform whatever spell you had in mind, out of curiosity and for entertainment’s sake, how would you describe your voice? I think I sound like a gryphon. I can’t sing to save my life.”_

He couldn't help it when he palmed his forehead. There hadn't exactly been something he could describe his voice was. Beyond that, he doubted you sounded the way you described. Even if you did, Aaravos had a feeling he would listen to such obnoxious sound if it came from you...This was bad, really bad for him. “ Can I have some time to think about how to answer that?”

_“Why not? Feel free,”_ you signed that time, He tried so hard to be upset for you using a language he was still learning. It made him wonder sometimes if you tricked him into things. _“Personally, I think you would sound like a dragon, deep and rumbly. I saw one once when I was traveling. They’re beautiful.”_

You had a very different idea of beauty than he did. “ Are you saying I’m beautiful?” You gave him a look which quickly reminded him of a previous conversation. _“_ My apologies.”

Still, you looked thoughtful, and answered, _“Yes, you’re beautiful. Your smile is also pretty cute, especially when you do that blushing thing. Your star freckles light up. Did you know that?”_

No, no he did not. But, instead of being embarrassed, Aaravos wanted to point out your very different concepts of beauty. So, he asked you your hair color, your eye color, and for you to step closer, into the light. You joked that you had one of your predecessor's eyes, that you found them weird. Well, he couldn't let that stand, could he? Searching you for words that needed to be said, wanting you to see yourself in the enchanted mirror. You were smirking for some reason, a thought likely coming to mind, one he couldn't hear, which was getting annoying real fast.

He had begun to lean to see you better, and you? You raised your own, silently asking to put your hand just over his. Swallowing, he nodded, and where you looked at all of his freckles with wonder, he looked at _you_. The corners of your eyes crinkled when you beamed, your eyes changing color pending the light, your smile breathtaking, and...

Aaravos could feel the warmth through the mirror. He could feel _you_, and after being alone for so long, he couldn't stop smiling. 

Seeing you finally getting a real look at him, through all of the darkness, he chuckled a little, trying to understand what you saw in him, and what you didn't. Despite all of this feeling right, he tried to tease you just once more. What was even happening?

“See something you like?”

You had gaped at him in disbelief. _"I don’t understand why you are looking at me like I would at you. You're unbelievable, like from a fairy tale.”_

Whoops, he got caught, and he didn't mind it too much. All he could say, was, _“_You are a strange one.”

Even with the mirror before you, you hadn't looked at your reflection. Not really.

You both giggled, and you slowly removed your hand. This time when you left, he didn’t make the offer to perform the ritual. The memory of your blood hadn’t stopped lingering in his mind. He never wanted to see it again.

* * *

Aaravos wondered where you were. It was past the appointed time you would come. Being in the mirror was more frightening than it ever had been for a moment. He was trapped, and he couldn’t see you, or know what had happened. What if the war had started? What if someone hurt you, or worse, _killed_ you.

You finally appeared, exhaustion was written all over you, your hair looking like a bird had attacked it, and…Seeing your smile, something lightened in him. That light dissipated as soon as he saw your gloved hands. You likely hadn’t noticed it, but he saw the blood starting to seep out. You were shaking. Memories returned. Who hurt you?

_“What is wrong? What happened to your hands?”_

When you didn’t answer at first, he said your name and used his ultimate, secret weapon. Even if you weren’t attracted to him, he knew you thought he was at least good looking in some regard. That, and he was mimicking a little boy’s expression that the latter used to get you to give tarts of some kind. That was your weakness, and he fully intended to use it.

“_Oh, that is just not fair.”_

He let the expression fade a little, sighing. No, he wasn’t going to manipulate you. He didn’t even know if he could if he wanted to anymore. You flinched when you removed your glove, and he clenched his fists at the sight of the singed flesh and blood covering your skin, and the cloth you had used to hide from him.

Then you did something utterly horrible. You said, nonchalantly, _“__I’m a servant. This is one of the hazards of my job. I’ve had worse.”_

Yes, he knew both of those things were true, but…

Flicking the mirror as you did once, he made sure to accentuate his lips as he said, “That doesn’t make it much better. You still feel pain, don’t you?”

You tried to hold your chin, pretending as though you were only mildly bothered. _“Never thought my words would be used against me like that before. Still, I’m getting it treated in the morning. I didn’t want to be later than I already was.”_

Aaravos would rather you get treated so that you wouldn’t die of infection, or worse. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was growing rather fond of you. “Why?”

“_Because it’s nice being around you,”_ you said, no problem whatsoever. How could someone have that kind of confidence without being narcissistic? He’d blush if there weren’t other concerns in his mind. _“And I said I would give you the world, and I do my best not to break my word.”_

That, technically you hadn’t said those exact words. The layers under those words had always confused him. You were quickly becoming a puzzle he wanted to solve, and not, for fear of finding out you were something he had suspected in the beginning, or…

“Please, don’t hurt yourself. As you said, your life is short. Do not make it shorter than it is.”

There was agony in your features. Aaravos wanted so badly to know the reason behind the expression you made that you always hid from others. Looking at your hands, you snorted, sighing._ “__You win, you got someone to care about you, whether you like it or not.”_

He could barely react as he saw you cut yourself, as though you had done it hundreds of times before. Scars already littered that piece of you. He furrowed his brows, watching as you raised your hand over the chalice, grimacing at seeing your blood flow so freely once more. He was angry at that moment, in the mirror, at the sight of you hurt, and, mostly at himself. He did this to you.

Aaravos conceded to cutting himself as well, trying not to notice as you flinched at the sight of him doing the same. Your fingers were twitching, arm raised slightly as though you instinctively wanted to stop him, even as his flesh healed right before your eyes.

He missed what you said for the first part of what you said, but caught the next words when he had the glowing worm appear. Aaravos had been expecting fear, disgust, but all you did was look confused, and say, _“Um, okay? That’s a thing?”_

The elf grinned as he lowered it into the water on his side and it crawled out into yours. Through its eyes, as well as his own, he saw you gape, your mind probably trying to process such things. Unfortunately, this worm was just part of his avatar to interact with you, and the rest was the bug itself. Even worse? He felt it a little when you pet the worm, your hand gentle as you smiled. The same hand ghosted over him. Your touch, phantom as it was, was gentle and soothing. So why was it so painful at the same time?

Worse than that, when the bug crawled up your arm to reach your ear, he heard you for the first time. He heard your laugh. It was different from what he expected, but beautiful nonetheless. Although, he had to admit he’d probably think any voice was beautiful considering how lonely he’d been.

“Hello, don’t you think it’s a little rude not to at least introduce yourself before trying to get underneath someone’s clothes?

Also, you really, really needed to stop teasing and flirting. You were going to give him a heart attack. Clearing his throat, he uttered, “My apologies.”

You were staring at him then, and touched the bug with a silent, ‘oh’. Then, you gave an evil, evil smirk. Oh no, please, spare his heart. “Hot damn you’ve got a sexy voice, and killer looks too. Still doesn’t excuse you being a pervert though.”

Yep, you were going to be the death of him. He was supposed to be the charmer, dammit! It was payback time. “Did you know your eyes are like gems? They remind me of ever-changing amber when put in the right light. And your hair is alluring, adding to your beauty.”

Your expression belayed your disbelief and skepticism. Gesturing to your hair, you asked, “Are you _sure _you’re not blind?”

Considering every time you came here, the mere sight of you made him feel whole again? Yes, yes you were. So, without hesitation, he said, “Without a doubt”

He couldn’t stop his grin even if he tried, “Thank you, for trusting me.”

There was a slight flush to your cheeks, and he couldn’t help but feel astounded. He thought he’d feel something of sadistic pleasure at such a thing, but instead, seeing you like that? He couldn’t help but feel his cheeks flush too. Maybe you were the truly magical one of the two.

“Nah, I think the blood loss is getting to me,” you deadpanned, trying to brush it all off. You failed. “Causes one to make horrible decisions. So, please don’t make me wake up and regret having done what I have?”

The last part was more sincere than any jest could be, and both of you automatically reached for one another, his hand touching, and yours tentative. Swallowing, he murmured, “I won’t harm you, and, you should know that I never lie. I can’t.”

He meant it too. He’d tried so hard to control you, to see something else there. Now? The thought of you getting hurt? He couldn’t imagine it ever possible for him to do that.

You flushed, but there was something else there too. He whispered your name, his voice plaintive. “Are you all right?”

Placing your hand over your eyes, you muttered, “You...Really are unbelievable.”

Aaravos thought that described you more than him.

He flinched when you asked, “You haven’t talked to people in a while, have you?”

He had the urge to lean closer to you. Your voice was supposed to be enough, that he wouldn’t ask for more. But, talking maybe all he had, ever. “No, I haven’t.”

“Sorry then, unlike yours, my voice isn’t the nicest to hear." Aaravos disagreed greatly. "I’ll have to take your little friend here to a music performance some time if you’d like?” you told him. “Haven’t been to one myself for a while. Sometimes I tend to forget the little things too. Really shouldn’t, I know.”

Yes, you really were the unbelievable one. “…You would do that?”

You were shrugging again. It used to annoy him, but now? Aaravos wasn’t sure how to feel. “Why not? It’s terrible being trapped, so why not be free in the ways that we can? I’m fairly sure that you’re finding your own ways of being free, whatever it is you’re doing, but in the meantime, might as well show you what there is to see when you get out, right? Wherever you are that is? Magic is kind of confusing.”

And once upon a time, you were so afraid of it that you couldn’t bring yourself to be near anything connected to it. Yet, here you stood, with him. “I don’t understand.”

How that question had been interpreted was far different from what he meant. “Think of it as, a selfish wish I suppose.”

You met his eyes evenly, and it felt like you were seeing straight into him. “Human lives like mine are fairly short, so why not make the most of them? As I said, I tend to forget the little things. There might even be a war coming soon, so…I want to live while I still can. I’m not a mage, or a warrior, or anything great in the slightest. I can’t make any great change, so why not experience parts of what little world there is left with someone else here with me? Certainly makes things less lonely, don’t you think?”

Spending more time with you? Seeing the world with you? Being free, even if only from another’s eyes? He had planned something similar to the idea, but now it was for a far different reason. He grinned, “I look forward to it.”

He wished you knew just how much he truly was.

* * *

Why you made a bug a bed, Aaravos would never understand, but the worm was happy so, he might as well just go along with it. He truly didn’t understand your actions.

“I don’t understand why you don’t understand,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. Then, you paled, holding yourself a little. “Er, excuse me.”

His mind raced frantically after you disappeared. When you came back, he could’ve sworn you were at death’s door as you collapsed onto the bed. Your lungs sounded as though they were trying to breathe through a sponge.

“Sorry, guess I ate something bad and...Um, I guess this grosses you out. I’ll shut up now.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ve had worse. Just need sleep,” you mumbled, your body visibly shivering as you buried yourself into blankets, keeping everything else out. “Got work tomorrow morning.”

Your breathing was labored, your forehead sweating heavily.

Rage filled him. You were hiding something. “You are not well, and you expect me to-”

“Hey, I’ve had worse,” you chuckled, tempering him a little. “You want me to tell you a story? Or sing a song? Think of it as a distraction. It’d be nice about now. It’s, ‘serving’ me, if you will. Does that make you feel better?”

He reluctantly agreed. “Amuse me.”

“Sure thing, your highness,” you mocked. He glared, but not really. “Song, story, preference of any kind?”

“A story then.”

You told him a story of loss, of fear, and of hope. Most of all, you showed an understanding of how Primal Sources were all connected. Even if you weren’t a mage, you appeared to understand it better than most.

You giggled at the end of your tale. “Sounds crazy, right?”

“...I think you gave me more than I asked for,” he said. “I received a story and a song.”

He felt guilt fill him as you said, “Not true. You didn’t get the lyrics, only the melody. That’s the problem, it’s supposed to be a secret. Oftentimes, it’s dangerous not to keep those kinds of things.”

Truly, you were giving him far more than he ever asked for.

* * *

You laughed as you heard the singers and dancers chanting together. The light shone in your eyes, sparking something within him, setting it aflame.

“You won’t dance with them?”

“I’ve never been a good dancer,” you giggled.

He had seen you dance, and he’d have called you a liar if he hadn’t seen or heard how sincere you said it. You meant every word, having so little faith in yourself. “Would you like me to teach you?”

It had come out naturally, ahead of his mind. When was the last time that happened?

You smiled, “I don’t know how, considering you can’t hold my hand.” Recalling a spell, he thought of how badly he wanted to hold you. This would be costly to him, but even if only for a few moments…

“Uh, what’s going on?" He wasn’t trying to frighten you and gentled his touch, and voice all at once. You swallowed, nervous, confused. “You, you’re not controlling me, are you?”

“You, never,” he said. “I promise.”

And he meant it.

Your form, however faint it was to him, relaxed. Was it bad he liked the feeling of you there? Even if it was little but an illusion? “I-“

“Please, trust me? Just this once,” he begged, inwardly wishing you could see him starting to bend his knee. This hurt, so much, being apart.

You took his breath away as you shook your head, “I already trust you-“

He almost didn’t hear the rest, trying to take in those four little words. You trusted _him_.

“-Just a little nervous. I’ve never done this before. Sorry. Uh, give me a moment to get used to it?”

In all actuality, he really needed a moment too, afraid he would try to push boundaries that he shouldn’t. So, he distracted both of you. “What was it you once said? The number of jokes one could make from that?”

You giggled once more, a sound he didn’t think he’d ever get weary of. “Jerk.”

“Dumbass,” he replied teasingly. Cursing did not normally come easily to him, but he was starting to enjoy expanding his vocabulary with you. “May I?”

“Take the lead, fair sir,” you said, laughing.

Just this? Dancing with an image of you? How agonizing it was to touch, and never touch at the same time. To see you, but never to feel you, not really. He barely paid attention to the music playing, utterly focused on you and your features, memorizing it all.

It was a bittersweet experience, to be with someone you could care about, and yet never be with them at all. Did you know how much he cared about you? How much within a few months you had changed everything? Did you know how much you meant to him, in the slightest? He would never be able to put those feelings into words. None felt good enough.

Then, you sang. You were crying, but you were smiling. He tightened his hold ever so slightly, to provide what little comfort he could. You obviously weren’t okay with sharing that information that he had seen from your expression so many times, but he didn’t want you to be afraid of him either.

You looked up at the sky, and he still looked at you. The two of you said the same word, with vastly different entities to describe. You didn't know it, but he was looking at you. “Beautiful.”

The melding of your voices felt right, like home.

The music died down, leaving the two of you alone in the dark once more, and he reluctantly let you go. Your smile was shy, and longing. Aaravos was grateful you couldn’t see his hungry gaze, starving really. “Thank you for the dance.”

“…It was my pleasure,” he whispered, incapable of raising his voice. Somewhere as you walked home, he let his mouth get the best of himself again. “Your voice isn’t grating on the ear. It’s, lovely.”

You chuckled, and Aaravos wished that you could see yourself the way he did. “That’s a first. Thank you. I hope you know that yours has always been a comfort to me.”

* * *

Seeing you stand out against the stars, you took his breath away. He couldn’t help but laugh as he admitted, “Some of your actions, they confuse me.”

“Maybe that’s what makes me so interesting,” you joked. That smile was a death sentence, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to mind. “Glad I keep you on your toes, oh great all-knowing one.”

“If I was all-knowing, then I wouldn’t be so thrown off by you,” he commented. "I feel as though you have an advantage over me.”

“Nope,” you said, jumping up to a small wall, balancing yourself on it. He wished you wouldn’t. He was scared of you hurting yourself, but he also recognized that you stronger than he often realized. Would there ever be a day that you ceased to amaze him? “I still don’t know your name. Don’t know your past. Not to mention that for all I know, you might have a plot that somehow involves conquering my people.”

He wanted you to know though. Keeping that to himself, he just hummed, as nonchalantly as he could, “I still don’t understand you for all of that. What could possibly go on in your mind?”

You sat on the edge of a rock, looking out at the endless sky. “I’m a human, I’m fairly selfish.”

You kept saying that. The human aspect held true for your race, but he doubted it was entirely the same with you. There was some hope there because of it.

“From what I’ve witnessed, I doubt that.”

* * *

When was the last time he had been so scared? All this time, he had learned to feel nothing, and even with Viren, all he could think of was how to calculate his path. With you, however, he doubted he could ever solve you,

And that was why he was terrified to know how’d you react. He wanted to tell you so badly who, what he was. But, how would you react to his past, his actions?

How would you react to learn he considered you as someone to manipulate once upon a time? That he would've, could've-

Then, you said those beautiful words again. “I trust you.”

Surprised, he didn’t know if he wanted to stay or run away. So, his body paralyzed him into place. “What?”

“You’re trembling, did you know that?” you murmured. “You’re afraid of something, possibly someone. I won’t pretend to know what’s on your mind, but, I trust you, with all that I am."

You had trusted him with your full name, your body, and mind when you danced, and whenever he used magic despite how much it frightened you. No, you hadn’t lied to him. It didn’t erase the feelings inside though, the doubt.

"I don’t expect you to do the same with me, but please know I’m not going to run away. I, I hope I’m not the one you’re afraid of.”

Oh but he was. He was afraid of you because you made him feel things he thought were either long gone, or were new and strange. He was afraid of you because the two of you had so little time, and he didn’t want to let go. Yet, he had also never been able to hold you, so how could he?

You would run away from him, one way or another. People always did. He tried to smile, but you saw right through the mask. You always managed to do that.“You don’t know who I am-”

“You adore music, you used to watch the sun rise and set as often as you could even if you were about to collapse,” you said abruptly, startling him. But you were the one who made him speechless. “You’re as much a scholar as you are a dreamer despite your semi-cynical nature. Your books, from what little Elvish I know, aren’t just nonfiction, but tomes of stories written by those who came before, some of which are children’s stories. You like simplicity, but can enjoy the details in any form of art. You’ve studied all kinds of magic, in various forms, and you don’t use it all for your own benefit." Your smirk brightened. "And you're a totally melodramatic goofball. Shall I go on?”

Aaravos didn't know whether to be annoyed, or a little flattered. In most circumstances, it would've been the latter. You were always a bit of an exception. Not to mention how prone to danger you were...Or how he was one of those dangerous things.

You folded your arms, and it took him several moments to say, “What of my past? What of-?”

“Forgive me for being so bold, but are you a ghost?” He shook his head at your question. Why would you ask something like that? “Then why are you leaving yourself in the past as if you were?”

Aaravos knew he should’ve been offended, but he couldn’t bring himself to be. He said your name once more, pained. "There’s much I haven’t told you,” he murmured. “You don’t even know my name.”

If he gave you that, even if you weren’t a mage, he would be giving you power over him. But, you already did that, even if you didn’t know it. “Okay then, you’re a startouch elf, which means you have, what, thousands of years to tell me about then?” 

How did you know what a startouch elf was when most humans didn’t differentiate between-? “And if you ask me how I know, I’ll be insulted. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one around here who bothers to read. I knew what different kinds of elves were out there, long before I met you.”

He was staring at you. “You, don’t care?”

You tilted your head, “I wouldn’t say that. I’m worried about how long you might have been in the mirror, for example, or how someone could possibly have put you in there, especially with what you know. They would’ve wanted you to be put in there, very badly. I am concerned a little about what you may or may not have done to warrant such a thing.”

Ever honest and mysterious.

You paused, “But, there’s also a lot you don’t know about me. I’m not exactly innocent either, and we don’t have to be. We’re friends, and I’m going to help you.”

His hands opened and closed. You called him a friend, you trusted him, and you looked at the person instead of what he was. You faced your fears every time you two met once more, you made sure he couldn’t feel lonely again. Yes, you had your secrets, but he also had his that made him question himself for over a thousand years…How were you so strong?

His voice was hoarse, cracked. “I have not wanted to touch someone in this prison, as much as I wish for you now. I want to hold your hands because part of me thinks you’re an illusion. I want to hold you so that I can protect you in the ways that I should’ve been able to. I want to embrace you, thank you for the kindness you give me and…”

“And?” you asked confused, a slight flush to your cheeks.

He pleaded your name, as though it were a prayer. Maybe it was. "I want so badly to…”

He clenched his fists, unable to look you in the eye. You placed your hand on the mirror, and automatically his flew to where yours would be if you were there with him in the same world. “_When_ you get out, we can do all of that, and more. I want to dance with you, I want to sit beside you as we watch the sun rise and set. I want to enjoy the little things with _you _.”

Deep down, he knew you recognized there was something there, even if neither were able to say it. But, there was one thing he could say to you. “...May I tell you my name?”

You spread your fingers with his, the sight warming him. “Only if you want to. If you’re absolutely sure.”

Aaravos placed his head on the mirror, and you followed his lead, your other hand where his chest might be if the two of you really were together. It was right over his heart, and he could feel your pulse as well. It was a little quicker than he expected but still steady. Your hand one his chest moved, and instead, you put your head there.

It hurt how much he wished you were there. He would hold your hands, feel the heat of your skin as you smiled and looked at him the way you did. He wanted to pull you close. He wanted to dance with you. He wanted to pick you up and show you the stars through his eyes. He wanted to…

He murmured your name once more, and you lifted your head, looking up at him. It was a mixture of ice and fire in his chest, and it became almost torturous as he fought himself. “I am Aaravos.”

You stared up at him, recognition in your eyes. No, did you know already who he was? How? When? Would you hate him? Would you fear him? He called your name for any reaction when you showed none. His eyes began to water, and then you pressed your head against him once more.

“My parents were storytellers, and I happen to like books, you know? It’s strange, many stories say that you disappeared mysteriously, or had been killed. I guess I have some idea of what happened now.”

So, you _did_ know, and he said that very thought out loud.

“I knew _of_ you, but I don’t judge people on rumors,” you snorted. Perhaps you tried not to, but Aaravos knew how strong biases could be. He just didn’t expect it to work in his favor. “Evidently, they’re quite unreliable. You're supposed to look a lot older, with much bigger cheekbones and black, soulless eyes, for example. I don't see any of that.”

Aaravos didn't comment on that last part. He didn’t want you to know the truth about that aspect of his life. Maybe in the future, he would, but for now? He wanted to be near you for as long as he could. He wanted to be near you for as long as you would permit him to. He wanted to be by your side. “So, you know some of my crimes.”

“I know plausible ones. Stories tend to change, and their perspectives are flawed. For instance, I was in a fight once with a soldier. He claimed I attacked him, which is somewhat true as I threw the first punch, but the reason I did it was that, unlike you, ‘no’ didn’t appear to be in his vocabulary.”

Aaravos was going to kill a man.

“He was one of the best they said, and I was only attempting to taint his image according to them. At least he didn’t bother me after that. I think he doesn’t because I showed him that he wasn’t as great a fighter he claimed to be.”

He wished he’d been there to see you do that, but imagining that was very pleasant indeed. You didn’t strike him as being a physical fighter, or really much of a manipulator, but he had also seen you battle all kinds of enemies. It’s why he didn’t doubt you could at least throw a mean punch. It was kind of exciting to think about, really.

But, people like you fought for the right thing. What if he wasn’t that to others, to you?

“And if I’m the villain in every one of those stories, and they’re true,” he whispered. “What will you do then?”

You smirked, something lacking in your eyes though. They didn’t quite match that crooked smile. “Pending on whether or not you’re still in here? If you're still here? I’ll keep on flicking the mirror to irritate the crap of you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that.

* * *

This story was getting predictable, but he wanted to hear it regardless. Still, it had to be a moonshadow elf it the story. Which begged the question, why would a human, from any time, be so foolish? Or so cruel? But, he had also witnessed all kinds of desperation. But, he also knew you had too. It was something that radiated off you.

You said you didn’t know much about elves, and he couldn’t help but find that hard to believe, seeing as you recognized him as a startouch elf, and not just any other kind.

"I do my best not to lie, Aaravos, and I'll always continue that effort."

He knew that. "I trust you."

Too many emotions passed through your expression, and Aaravos wondered if that was the first time he said it out loud.

“Before him was the child, trying to wake up her mother, too young to understand what death was. She asked for the elf to help, and instead, he placed a curse on her and her descendants, that all of the firstborns would suffer a terrible end, all in agony.”

You had been playing a song while playing, one that was sorrowful, and your fingers missed one of the repetitive notes. Every story held something of yourself in it. He could feel it, and this story? It was causing you pain.

“Years later, once the girl had grown into a woman and birthed her child, she was sailing with her own beloved, her child with them as she showed them the beauty of the waters, telling them stories every day and night. A storm drowned the parents, and the child barely survived. They learned from their grandfather what he had done. Angry and confused, the child lashed out, understanding too late that they had part of the magic in them that their parent had. Their grandfather died by their hand, and the child was taken in by their relatives."

Your voice and hands were trembling. Dread filled him. It couldn’t be.

“All in the bloodline of firstborns did exactly as the elf had cursed them for. The grandchild was burned alive, another died slowly from a plague, and another froze in a river, calling out for help where no one could no matter how much they tried. Some of these firstborns died in adulthood, others in childhood. Some were killed early on in their life by their loved ones, as a mercy to spare them from suffering.”

Aaravos’ eyes fell to your scars, thinking of your faked smile. You had always been scared of magic and had been nervous of getting near him from the beginning. Although, he found out some tales of elves were that their kind drank blood.

But, did you really think you were going to die? His senses reached out for magic of any kind. He couldn’t quite reach you though. If you had any kind of magic, or connection to it, Aaravos was unable to reach it. “And, how does it end?”

You looked at him, too many thoughts and emotions flaring. “It still hasn’t.”

So, it was real. Or, at least people believed it to be so. The likelihood was great if what you said was true though. Even if it wasn't true, it was real to you. A part of him believed it, knowing how close you'd been to dying before him before.

“Last time I saw them, only a small number were left, the rest dead by illness, murder, or consumed by beasts of all kind. Their firstborn had just asked their parents to end their life, and wanted to be buried by the sea.”

Was that why you had wanted to go to the ocean so badly? He had to be wrong. He needed to be. “Were they angry at the elves?”

You scoffed, sounding more than a little bitter. “No, in fact, that child wanted to meet them, and apologize for the bloodshed and lives lost not just by their family, but by humans overall. The child's parent told me that an elf’s life lasts for at least a century naturally, so because their family had been cursed for that long, then they’d paid for at least one of the lives taken, but still had yet to pay for the other.”

He scowled, “Why not ask the elves for aid?”

Why not ask _him_?

“I asked the same thing when I was a child, and I was told that because of the border between Xadia and the five kingdoms, for fear of causing further bloodshed, they didn’t dare.”

Maybe you didn’t notice it (you didn’t notice a lot of things about yourself), but you paused as you spoke, whatever memories you had flitted through your mind. “…That they were lucky their ancestor hadn’t started a war by his foolishness. And, the elf who had cast it was dead, and those related to him would likely never remove the curse, even if they could meet without causing a war.”

If Aaravos hadn’t stopped that monster from attacking you what felt like an eternity ago, you would’ve died. You also had wounds from getting burned, from when you fought that soldier, you knew how to cut yourself, and…

All those scars. You told him about some of them. Most had something that could’ve lead to you dying. He had been worried before, but now? He felt more than helpless.

* * *

You still visited him, and he always searched you for new injuries, for anything he should bear in mind once he escaped from his prison. He kept on trying to make you smile, to make sure you were happy and safe. It always ached when he couldn’t reach you in one way or another.

Both of you argued about how to get him out. He knew of vastly different ways, but too many, too high of a price he wasn’t about to pay when it came to you. You kept on begging, _pleading_ for him to tell you how to break free, and he refused every single time.

So, the last time he saw you, he said, "Your life is short, and I want to spend it with you."

His hand met yours on the mirror, and he felt you for the briefest of moments. “Please, you’ve given me the world. I can’t, won’t, have you give me any more than you have-“

For the briefest of moments, Aaravos had reached for you, to stroke your face, forgetting the barrier between you two. Your eyes watered, hands opening and closing, shakily reaching for him, but then you looked away.

He didn't want to risk you anymore. It was hard to remember a moment that he had. The two of you needed to stop. He needed to control his anger. You needed to stay safe. So, he told you to leave.

“Please, Aaravos, I,” you started to say, only for both of you to hear clattering outside. It was likely Viren approaching. He almost missed it when you touched two fingers to your lips, and put them where his cheek would be. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? For what?

* * *

You woke up, running to the bathroom to cough into the sink. Breathing harshly, your lungs felt as though they fought to absorb air. It took nearly a minute, but the sound echoed loudly enough to get one of the other servants to enter. You fell then, your head hitting the sink.

Your vision kept fading in and out, and with every flash of light, the darkness closed in more. Everything hurt, from your lungs, your head, your limbs…

Aaravos’ face came to mind during those dark moments. No, you had to hang on. You had to save him. You had to fight. So, with every excruciating breath, you hung on to the thought of him. To the dream of him breaking free. To the thought of the day, you could finally embrace him. To holding his hand. To that smile that made you smile back.

You, you hadn’t even said goodbye. You had to see him again. You had to. You had to tell him, how much you loved him. You had to tell him how you loved his dorky smile, how he made your day better by just existing, and how you wanted to give him the world, the world you couldn’t have.

Something was tugging inside you, and you saw his face, truly, at that moment. You didn’t know how you knew, but Aaravos was looking for you. He didn’t know what was happening to you. Heck, you weren’t sure, but you had to tell him, to apologize, to…If he could feel you, sense everything you did, then, you didn’t want him to suffer as you did. You couldn’t stand the thought. You were used to it all, but him? He’d gone through so much more. Until him, death wasn’t terrifying, but a constant throughout your life. He helped you learn how to live again 

You couldn’t hold back the cough that rattled what was left of your lungs. Someone, a stranger, wiped your forehead, and you were mildly able to make out some words.

…You really were alone. You weren’t going to see him again, and, he was hurting because of you. You had never wanted that, ever. You wanted him to see the sun, to map out constellations, laugh, to, dance. There was so much to do, and you couldn’t do it.

But, he was still feeling this somehow, wasn’t he? He was still suffering because of you. You weren’t a mage, but you did know that you didn’t want this to continue any longer for him. Searching inside yourself, you found what was pulling, clinging on. Whatever it was, it was attached to your heart. How poetic.

Another surge of pain hit you, and it was enough to give you the strength to take the bond in your mind’s hand and rip it out. You would’ve screamed if you were physically able to, but all that came up was a metallic taste in your mouth.

He was free now, free of you and, you smiled at the memory of him.

You knew he would be okay. You were just a passing moment after all, not even a passing thought in his existence. How odd that was a relief? Tears streamed down your face, and…

Since when had the darkness been so peaceful?

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 11/24/2019
> 
> I went back and put in some links as to what inspired me for certain parts of the story (had to find them again), to better explain what I may have been thinking when I did it.
> 
> I don't own these concepts, links, etc. But, they did play a large part.
> 
> PS For your hearing pleasure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9altRF7LWgE
> 
> EDIT
> 
> 12/11/2019 - Hey everybody, a group and I had a research project for a few classes that involves a survey. We needed a larger sample size. I'm happy to say that we got more than enough responses for the project and I just wanted to thank everyone for helping out.
> 
> If you want to check out the results, here's the link: https://www.surveymonkey.com/results/SM-5ZFXQ8JS7/
> 
> Thank you!


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